


Emily

by scullywolf



Series: TXF: Scenes in Between [104]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, MSR, Missing Scene, Pre-Episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:32:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullywolf/pseuds/scullywolf





	Emily

(Pre-episode)

For the most part, he was able to keep himself busy and distracted while Scully was gone, to keep from going too stir-crazy even though he followed her lead and took a few days off work. It was a risky move, taking leave without actually leaving town, having to fight the impulse to just swing by the office for a minute to check on something or other, but he did all right, overall. He hung out with the three stooges a few times, even took advantage of the opportunity to go out to a movie (something he ordinarily would never have time for). When all else failed, he went for a run. He ended up going running a lot that week, actually.

A couple of days before Christmas, he decided to surprise his mom by driving up and taking her out to dinner. The Mulders had never really celebrated much of anything, not after Samantha… but anyway, it seemed like the thing to do.

It could have gone better.

She was still so angry about the last time he’d shown up, half out of his mind and accosting her with painful questions about the past, that when she first answered the door, she shut it again in his face.

“Go away, Fox.” Her voice was muffled from behind the closed door. “I’m not subjecting myself to another interrogation from you.”

His shoulders drooped. “I’m not here for any of that, Mom. I just thought I’d take you out to dinner.”

There was a long pause, but then she opened the door again and stood with her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. “Well, you should have called first. I’m afraid I already have plans tonight.”

“Oh, I…” It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might have something else to do. “Right. Well, merry Christmas, Mom.”

“Merry Christmas, Fox,” she said, without any warmth whatsoever, and closed the door again.

It was hardly the first time he’d made the drive from D.C. to Greenwich only to turn around and drive back in short order, but this had to take the cake. He hadn’t even been out of the car five minutes. Sighing, he got back in it and headed back toward the highway.

***

Christmas itself may as well have been any other day, except for all the stores and businesses being closed. The Gunmen invited him over for dinner and DnD, but he declined; he wasn’t feeling especially social. The weather was dreary and rainy, and though he’d certainly gone running in worse, he just couldn’t summon up the energy or interest this time. He spent the day sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching old movies and trying not to notice how many times he found himself glancing over at the phone.

She was on vacation with her family. It wasn’t her responsibility to alleviate his loneliness.

***

He was back at work early the next day. 

The Hoover Building was more or less empty, only a handful of die-hards or poor bastards summoned in for work on a case that couldn’t wait. Even though he wasn’t really any less alone than he’d been the day before, it was a relief to walk into his office, to sit at his desk with a cup of coffee and catch up on emails. At least he had things to do. The day passed quickly, taken up by research into half a dozen claims of various paranormal phenomena, reported in the past week. Of the six, only one of them potentially merited any investigation, he ultimately decided.

Late in the afternoon, the phone rang.

“Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me.”

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the unexpected sound of her voice. “Hey, Scully. How’s sunny California?”

“It’s, um… this trip did not exactly go like I expected.”

He felt a surge of anger toward Bill Scully. If the man could find ways to guilt-trip his sister on her deathbed, it _would_ be just like him to figure out some way to make her vacation something other than a pleasant one.

“Family drama?”

“No. Well… yes, but not what you’re thinking.” She paused, and he waited. “Would you be… would you be willing to fly out here and testify on my behalf at a custody hearing on Monday?”

Wait, _what_?

“You’re gonna have to bring me up to speed here, Scully. What’s going on?”

“There’s too much to go into over the phone. But the short version is that there is a 3 year-old girl whose adoptive parents were both killed within the past few days, and for reasons that I will explain later, yesterday I received DNA test results stating that I am her biological mother.”

His heart sank. There was only one way that was possible, and the implications of such a thing were dire, to say the least. Any biological child of Scully’s would have to have begun life in a test tube at the Lombard Research Facility, or someplace similar, and there was little to  no chance that the girl’s genetic makeup was fully human. If her adoptive parents had been murdered, that probably meant that whoever was responsible for this child’s creation was trying to get her back, and they would not shy away from killing anyone who stood in the way of that. He covered his mouth with his free hand.

“Mulder? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I-I’m here, Scully. I’ll, uh, be on the first flight out to San Diego Monday morning.”

He heard her release her breath in a rush. “Thank you, Mulder.”

After hanging up the phone, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed both hands down his face. There was no way this ended well. 


End file.
